The Forlorn Chime
by Akuneisa
Summary: [Elricest, Angst, AU, Three Part Arc] When Edward Elric makes a huge mistake on the eve of his wedding night, his confusion will only lead to disaster for him and his baby brother.


**Author's Notes: **_This was a very, very strange idea that popped up for no good reason and wouldn't let me sleep. It was only after so long that I told the idea, "Enough is enough. If I just relent and write you, will you leave me alone?" And it happily responded, "Why, of course I will! -Insert Smiley Face Here-" So, I had no choice but to keep up my end of the bargain. This is going to be a Three-Part Arc, and you'll just have to deal with that. :childish moment: Also, Isaac Bermington (My OC from another Fic) is in this! W00t for Isaac! Can't get enough of him. Only difference in this fic from Through the Dark is that Isaac won't be hitting on Al. :smiles: _

_Oh oh! And in the series you never find out what Sheska and Roze's last names are, sadly. So I created them some nifty names._

**Summary: **_Haha, you don't get one:sticks tongue out: Just because it's supposed to be a surprise. Though, I can supply you with a nifty list of warnings though... oh, and a story._

**Warnings: **_Elricest (Nothin' new there.), Slight Ed/Winry. AU, Angst, Language, Slight Violence, Sexual Situations, Slight Smut, Weddings, Sadness from the Best Man... and :gasp: More Angst! (This is rated Mature for a reason. Believe me; if you don't wanna see some Elric on Elric action, then I suggest you click the back button.)_

* * *

_The Forlorn Chime - Part One_

* * *

They had made the biggest mistake of their lives.

Well, that wasn't necessarily true; _Ed _had made the biggest mistake of his life. Oh, of course, Al helped. A lot. Oh yes, quite a lot. They single handedly ruined what could've been a happy marriage. _Could've _been.

And now the groom was having second thoughts, worse then any other second thoughts he'd ever had. All because he and his little brother had somehow wound up sleeping together the night before the wedding. To understand that, I'll have to take you back to about sixteen hours before this current predicament our beloved, idiotic brothers had pulled themselves into.

* * *

Edward Elric was getting married to the woman of his dreams-- or so everyone thought. Honestly, he had always been unsure of his real feelings toward Winry Rockbell, but only because there were aimless feelings he still felt for_ another_. But that was a filthy love; one he could never share with _that person. _This love with this woman, however, was cleanly and wholesome. It was a love that was socially acceptable. The love that he harbored for that _other person _would never be acceptable in the eyes of society or in the eyes of friends or parents.

Those feelings were forced away, but never discarded entirely.

That is, until the night of the Bachelor Party. Ed had been having the strangest night of his life with his best friends-- His baby brother Alphonse, and their friends Roy Mustang, Jean Havoc, Maes Hughes, and Isaac Bermington had all settled on going, of course, to a strip club like the stereotypical bachelor parties Ed had seen and heard about on Mad TV and Girls Gone Wild and shit like that. He didn't care where they went-- his pre-wedding jitters were getting the best of him.

Winry and her girlfriends were busy with wedding preparations, incredibly unaware of the guy-like goings on that the men were doing. Wasn't that how all the Bachelor Parties went? Riza Hawkeye, Roze Winchester, and Gracia Hughes all were the Bride's Maids, and little Elysia Hughes had the wonderful job of being the ever-adorable flower girl. Then that left Sheska Reinhard, who got the privilege of being Winry's Maid of Honor. It was all too surreal and magical and beautiful to be true.

Anyway, back to the men.

Promptly around eleven o'clock to twelve o'clock midnight the night prior to the wedding, the six guys arrived at the Strip Club, most of them chuckling and enjoying themselves thoroughly. Isaac was busy having a cigarette outside the club with Havoc, and Roy and Maes were on the hood of the car chatting amongst themselves. Edward and Alphonse sat on the steps leading up to the front entrance, waiting for their friends. The plan was, as soon as Isaac was finished with his cigarette, and Maes was done going through the short-life story of his 'Darling Daughter Elysia' they would finally go inside. That could take an eternity, but the wait wasn't that bad.

Al rested his head in his palms, rubbing his forehead tentatively, sighing in frustration. The stone steps below him were freezing his backside off, and he wasn't getting any friendlier with anyone. And he certainly wasn't beyond hitting Hughes to shut him up about his daughter that they all had heard about over a thousand times.

The elder of the brothers sat next to his sibling, taking long, slow drags off of his own cigarette, fingering his temple in the same irritated way that the younger boy was doing. Both of their fuses were especially short tonight, and anything could set them off. The Bachelor party had been, thus far, extremely annoying. The car had broken down half way to the bar that they had thrown a party at, Ed had spilled an entire large glass of Pina Colada all over himself, and Al had to take him into the bathroom and help clean him off before he killed Jean for being the cause of the whole incident. Then there were other minor things that had been getting to them both, but nothing really worth mentioning.

And now, sitting in front of the club in the middle of a freezing December night hearing the distant talk of _'She really, REALLY wants a Polly Pocket Dream Vacation House for Christmas, but I told her, "Daddy's military funding is low this year, sweetie." I just can't say "No" to her though!' _would drive you crazy, too. And both boys were just about at their breaking point, neither saying a word, only trying to maintain optimum control over the frenzy of emotions that were boiling vehemently in the pits of their stomachs.

_What I wouldn't give for an Aspirin, _Alphonse thought, closing his bronze eyes slowly, groaning in the back of his throat. He was in agonizing pain from the migraine that had over taken his head, making his vision very clouded, and his irritation on top level. It took him a long moment to realize that there was a hand on his shoulder shaking gently to get his attention. He lifted his head from it's resting place in his pale hands, and looked wearily at his big brother.

Edward smiled in a very tired way, dark circles beneath his golden orbs indicating just how exhausted he was. He wasn't going to be very fun on his wedding night, and poor Winry would be sex deprived! It would be like having sex with a zombie, which no one really wanted. "I wish we could go home," Ed said softly, his words carried away by the light breeze. "I just want a full night's sleep before I get married, instead of some girl trying to ride me into bed. Why are we here anyway?"

Al shook his head, nauseous from his migraine, and mumbled quietly in response. "I don't know... because we're stupid guys. And stupid guys are supposed to like skimpy girls. Why ... can't we just go out for pizza or something? Something innocent..." the incoherent junk he was saying wasn't even that worthwhile because there wasn't any way he could change the projectile that this horrid missile of a night was headed. Not only was he going to be sick from a migraine, he'd be sick from seeing his brother getting action from a nameless slut. That'd make him far sicker than any migraine.

Tapping ashes off his cig, the elder Elric watched the street with a curious expression on. "I don't want to go in; isn't this technically like cheating? I can't be with another girl... I have a fiancé! Aghh, Al, I'm so stupid! I shouldn't even have agreed to this!" his voice shouted out above the noise of traffic in the night, making a horrible sharp snap inside Alphonse's head.

The other hissed in reply at the piercing pain pressing through his mind, and had he been more mobile he would've slapped at Ed for being so inconsiderate. Not only that, but what also kept him from hitting the elder man was that it was the night before his marriage; he was under so much pressure and stress and was constantly shaking in the nervousness he felt that it would be inhumane to do anything to make his situation worse. "Sh-shut up, brother!" was all he could manage, covering his ears and pressing his face into his jean-clad knees.

Finally, Maes had stopped his ranting, and Isaac was finished with the seven cigarettes he and Jean had been chain-smoking.

"So, you guys ready to go in, then?" Roy asked, the four of them walking over to the two Elric brothers.

Ed looked up lethargically at the other men, and offered a wayward tired smiled to them-- the same kind he had given Al a moment before. "Yeah, guess so. Ready as we'll ever be." If not for his tiredness, he would've said something about them not being the ones who 'weren't ready' in the first place. It had been Maes and Isaac who just _had _to get their shit done.

All of the men ventured up the stairs, Alphonse tagging close behind, a hand still pressed to his forehead and his cheeks flushed darkly. No one seemed to notice that there was something wrong. And there was, indeed, something wrong-- not just the massive headache.

When they opened the doors, the first thing that rang out into the night was the heavy bass and techno music that blasted out of the speakers inside the club.

... the migraine only grew as the night went on.

* * *

They spent three hours in the club, and more than once Al had to excuse himself and use the restroom so he could splash his face with water and alleviate some of the pain of the headache. The bathroom smelled like cheap perfume and baby powder. It was sick-- even in a _guy's bathroom! _He could only imagine the things that had happened in that bathroom, and that made him all the more eager to return to his friends.

All of them received lap-dances, save Alphonse who couldn't even sit long enough to endure one. Ed didn't seem to mind that much anymore; he was getting steadily buzzed off of Jack Daniels and Coca-Cola, and then medium sized glasses of Strawberry Daiquiri. His cheeks had turned a deep amber-red color, and he looked so very happy sitting back in his chair, his head rested on his forearm as his fingers played with an empty shot glass on the oak table they all sat around. There was a girl tugging teasingly at his jeans, rubbing on him through the fabric. He didn't seem to notice, nor care.

Isaac was in a room with a girl, no doubt being pleasured. Maes and Mustang were quite busy with their own ladies, and poor Havoc was the only one who now didn't have a girl to get all over him... besides Al of course.

But that was okay, because the youngest of them all was so entranced with what was going on with his big brother to notice anything else. Hell, he could've been getting a lap-dance anyway, and he wouldn't even have noticed. That's how busy he was watching with fascinated, minutely disgusted interest at what was happening to his beloved, admired Ed. Well, technically, Ed wasn't _his. _He was Winry's... much to Al's dismay. He didn't even realize there was jealousy in his eyes as he observed what went on across the table.

He enjoyed watching the sweet look on Edward's face as his fingers danced around the rim of the glass he was playing with, and how his eyes would sometimes close with the pleasure that girl was giving him. Al looked closer, and could see how much _she _was enjoying pleasuring such an amazingly handsome man, the way her silver-blue eyes gazed over him, and how she could tell just what to do.

_I wish that were me. I wish I could give him that kind of happiness... I wish we weren't brothers. Even so, I still can't love him like that... we're both boys, and besides! He loves Winry. The only reason he's enjoying that is because he's drunk. If he were sober he'd be pushing her away and storming out of the club... _

_But still, I wish I could just reach out and kiss him. He's so amazing, and perfect. Handsome, strong, caring, and my brother. My brother. **My brother.** _

His slender hand reached for his own large glass full of some sort of alcoholic beverage, and he took a long gulp, his round cheeks becoming just as dark-- if not darker- than Ed's. He wanted to succumb to the shadowy, clouded feeling and go under with the force of that liquid, but he just couldn't. His migraine was still there, and he was crying to himself, watching with such detached interest as he tried to imagine what it'd be like if he could be that close to his big brother.

Distantly, he took another long gulp, and things felt strangely dark and nearly surreal. The normality of the situation-- if there ever was any- was instantly gone, and things began to feel oddly out of place. He couldn't remember what he was holding was called. There was a name for it, but it just wouldn't come to him! And Al's mouth felt fuzzy, like licking fur. His tongue could only rise slightly, coating over the roof of his mouth, trying to figure out how he was supposed to talk. No longer was he watching the ministrations of the stripper, but was suddenly inside himself, trying to place himself back into this new mismatched world.

It became darker, when once more he raised the glass to his soft, pink lips and took a drink from it, the sweet substance sliding down his throat like nectar, coating the inside of him with that milky happiness that he was delving into. He liked this feeling; it was an escape, and the nostalgia of being isolated was far too entrancing. He wasn't able to think about the pain in his heart whenever he thought about the upcoming wedding. Instead, he closed his eyes and imagined the alter with Edward standing next to it in a tuxedo, his hair back in the usual ponytail, and his golden eyes hesitant but expecting.

He was waiting for someone.

There was someone walking towards him in a beautiful, flowing snowy white dress, and the look on Ed's face seemed to soften when he saw this new arrival. Those gold eyes were no longer hesitant, but so sure, and so ready that it was nearly frightening. They looked like an animal's eyes-- deep and stunning.

The alter was a collage of beautiful red and dark roses adorning the stands along side of the aisle-way, and the fragrance was refreshing. He stood awkwardly there, but still so handsomely in his black tuxedo. Alphonse couldn't be sure, but he knew he was drawing himself farther into this dream then he should be. It had started so simply with just imagining, now he was _dreaming. _He was one with the person in the dress, feeling what they were feeling.

He knew the reassuring feel of those rough hands on his cheeks, as they brushed past to lift the veil to the dress. Al's eyes were wide and unsure, and his hair hung in his face a bit while all the while he was blushing darkly, embarrassed because he was in a dress. But there was that look in his big brother's eyes. A look of acceptance, and of love. Casting an awkward glance at the people in the pews, he noticed there were all cats in the seats. That certainly was odd. But he felt normal...

They were the only ones in the whole church, besides the cats. And Edward held tight to Al's hands, just looking at him happily. There wasn't a minister, but there was a voice, loud and clear:

_I now pronounce you two, brother and brother. Man and man, homosexual and homosexual. _

And Alphonse couldn't keep the tears at bay, because they were forming without hesitation at the corners of his sad bronze eyes. The voice continued:

_Forever bonded in this sin, in this web of deception you've wound for yourselves. Be happy together in matrimony in hell. _

But there were not tears in Ed's eyes; instead he still had that peaceful look on his face. He looked content.

_You may now kiss your brother. _

And those worn knuckles slid over Al's left cheek, preparing him for the eventual purpose of that movement. And he was being kissed in a moment, a sinful treat of delicate bitterness and a gentle irony that left him breathless in every sense of the word. He was shaking and crying and not kissing back, hating himself for loving how his brother's tongue felt perfect in his mouth even in a dream.

_A dream. _

This was a dream... a dream.

* * *

It was 3:27 in the morning. Well, in the middle of the night, and Alphonse found himself strewn across their living room couch.

_How the...?_

It had been confusing; he hadn't remembered leaving the club, and what was he doing here? His face was still hot with the fires of alcohol not worn off. That was predictable, but he could still tell where he was, and have enough common sense to think that maybe Maes or Isaac had brought him and his brother home and--

Brother.

Head throbbing terribly, Al staggered and wobbled attempting to standbut only fell back on the couch. He felt so fuzzy and awkward, and the surreal notion he had had before hadn't gone away yet. The house seemed smaller and more condensed now, and time was moving at an unnaturally slow pace. "B-brother? Brooottthhheeerrr..." he said slowly, the affectionate word he had used his entire life slurred with the drunken state he was in.

Edward wasn't in a much better position. He had been running into practically everything since he had gotten home. He had laid Al carefully on the couch, and attempted to find something to vomit into. His drunken mind hadn't considered the toilet, and so he had made it halfway through the kitchen before bile forced its way through his stomach and up his throat and onto the wood floor. It had left a bittersweet alcoholic taste on his already bourbon-flavored tongue.

Though he staggered just the same as Al, and when he heard his name being called, he picked himself up off of the kitchen floor and dragged his feet lazily into the living room. Ed lost his balance quite a lot on the carpet, and if Alphonse hadn't been drunk, he would've helped his brother out. This was unlike both of them; usually they were pretty capable, responsible men. They hadn't even partied for their 21st birthdays. But now Edward was 25, and he was allowed to be an idiot.

However, Al was still the younger brother, and shouldn't even have probably gone, although he was only a year younger than his elder sibling.

"Brother..." he whispered with such affection that it was frightening, reaching a hand out for Ed. "I... can't seem to...pwlaace myshelf." What was he saying? That didn't even sound right, and that Goddamn migraine kept rearing its ugly head.

The older Elric's gold eyes were dark and mysterious and nearly shone with consideration, even through the drunkenness. "Al, you shouldn't have... done whatever. You'll worst the have hangover. I know should-- I've there been. Brother take from it; don't drunk you be?" It didn't even occur to him that he had mismatched all the words he had spoken, because neither of them was sane enough to realize it.

Alphonse looked groggily at Ed, his face a mess of intoxicated emotion. He could tell there was something wrong with the both of them, but his mind wouldn't process any information except that he was becoming exceedingly tired, even more so than he had been before the night began. "I'm... really sleepy... brother sleepy too?" he asked with a soft tone, tilting his heavy head to the side.

Kneeling in front of the couch where Al was sitting, Ed smirked up at him in his drunken way, almost daringly. Somewhere inside he couldn't help but think how very lovely his little brother looked with his long hair in his face, and his cheeks so bright red he resembled something along the lines of an apple or a tomato. Or was it a banana? He couldn't tell for sure, but that want inside him only seemed to grow the longer he looked at the other male in front of him.

Leaning in a little, he laid his head on Al's lap, nuzzling into him and bringing his secure arms around the younger's waist. "Oh, Al... You've always been so warm. You're warm, and all red and still so warmmm... mm." he purred in a desperate manner, tugging Alphonse closer and closer against him. He didn't quite understand what he was doing, but the sweet contact he was making was setting his insides on fire.

A sharp jump of his heart into his throat made Al shudder a little, his shoulders quaking helplessly. He wanted so badly to give in, but he was still letting logic keep him back from what he desired most. Meanwhile, Ed was burying his nose into the younger's stomach, murmuring sweet things to him. Things like: "You're beautiful, little brother. Beautiful. . . " He used that word a lot right then; Beautiful. It was something the boy wasn't used to hearing all the time, and the sensual drawl that Ed spoke with it was enough to set him alight.

But what caught him off guard was Edward's lips on his flesh, kissing his tummy beneath his shirt, letting his tongue trace patterns into the soft skin. In between those heated kisses he whispered more loving words, more passionate pleadings, and more sheer desires. Neither had ever felt this way before. It was so strange. . . but entirely wonderful. "_My _baby brother. _Mine. _You're _mine_, Alphonse..."

_Oh, brother. . . I'd love to be yours. But... something's so wrong with us right now. This doesn't seem right. I can't feel my body. I can't feel anything. Everything's numb._

Those lips traveled farther up, kissing under the shirt, lifting it gently with trembling fingers, and the hunger in those teeth attacked against Al's chest, being harsh but sweet all at once. Ed was similar to a starving wolf, the way he craved the touches and was giving them so listlessly. He was like a blood-deprived vampire, shown blood as a teaser, but unable to resist the unpleasant urge. Like a cat with a mouse dangled in front of him, then pulled away quickly, but still plagued by the need and the want.

"Brother. . . Brother, stop! Please! _Stop!" _Al's voice was hoarse and he squirmed a little and pulled away from his big brother's sweet caresses. "We can't do this," he said quietly, lifting Edward's face up to look him in the eye. His head hurt horribly, and he felt as though he were going to vomit. But for once in the last few hours he'd been drunk he was finally thinking properly. "I_ can't _do this." And without giving himself time to change his mind, he pushed the other man away and stumbled to his feet, running for his bedroom.

Ed got up hurriedly, tripping and clumsily running his leg into the coffee table in the process. "Al, wait! Please wait!" He managed to catch up in time, since Al still had to run through the kitchen to get to the room. They were halfway through the hall when Ed groped out and grabbed tightly to the younger man's small wrist, tugging him back a bit.

"Lemme go! I can't! I _can't_!" Alphonse whined and struggled, his free hand desperately reaching for his doorknob.

The other shook his head fiercely, and only clung tighter. "No, Al! I need you... I _want _you!"

With a subdued growl, Al spun around and slapped his brother hard in the face; hard enough to leave a decent mark. "Your sick! We can't! We're brothers! You have no idea what's going on! I don't even think _I_ do!"

Edward stepped back, a little hurt at the younger's aggression. "You're a liar. I know perfectly well you want this just as bad as I do. You've wanted it for so much long--"

The bedroom door was opening at that second, Al spiteful and full of resentment. He didn't want to admit to any of that, and so the only other way was denial. He would deny it if there were any questions tomorrow. Now he just wanted to sleep. He figured that Ed would get the clue when he had seen the boy going into his room, but apparently that wasn't the case, because in a moment - just as Alphonse was beginning to remove his shirt - strong arms were wrapped around his waist from behind, and warm breath was lingering against his neck.

"You don't understand. I'm... I'm scared, Al. I've always wanted to feel you like this, but I knew we couldn't. I knew no one would approve of it..." Ed's words were slurred a little, as he was still semi-drunk. But there was something familiar about those confessions; because it was the exact same way for Alphonse. His mouth brushed down Al's neck softly by means of persuasion, dangerous and begging at the same time.

"Wh-what? What about Winry? What about the _wedding?"_

"This is it, Al. After tonight we'll never get this opportunity again! I'll never be able to touch you like this..." Edward brought his hand down in a swift, sensuous movement, slipping it under the hem of the other boy's pants, down in the area no one had ever touched him before.

Gasping frantically for his stolen breath as his brother's hand caressed him gently on that one particular spot, Al lurched foreword, still held back by those strong arms. His hips bucked up unbidden, the boiling, keening sensation buried deep in him screaming out and telling him this was exactly what he wanted, what he _deserved. _"_Please..._ _I want it, too..." _he whispered in a hushed voice that was dulled down by the passion flaming out of him.

And too soon that hand left him, and he whimpered a little in frustration, nibbling on his lower lip. Ed pushed him foreword a bit, and in response Al turned around to face him. He felt the back of his legs meet the side of his bed, and he swallowed in anticipation. The look in those intense gold eyes was dangerous and real, and looked animalistic. "Lay down, baby brother," was all he said, very quietly, but demanding too.

There was a brief moment of hesitance, and Al almost obeyed, but didn't. Instead he looked shyly up through his mess of bangs, his cherry stained face darker than it had been. "I-I--"

"I said, _Lay Down, Al."_ this time the demanding was sexually induced, and the younger Elric didn't think twice about listening. He turned a little and crawled onto his bed, heart thumping like a bunny's. He felt as though he were about to be raped or something horrible like that, when really this is what he'd be dreaming for since he was 13.

Edward took off his own shoes and nudged them aside clumsily, then crawled in a like way onto the bed, as well. His hand extended to brush the hair away from Al's eyes, looking at him seriously. "You really are beautiful, Alphonse.. so beaut--" and the minimal restrain and struggle that the other boy had prior, instantly faded as he crushed his lips eagerly against his big brother's, sitting up from the position he was in and desperately clutching his hands into long, golden hair. He only stayed that way for a moment because Ed was pushing him back down into the comforter, hands groping out all over the younger's body, feeling him everywhere through fabric, touching and pressing and exploring.

Al's fingers found the tie in his brother's hair, and pulled it out swiftly, feeling the strands fall away from the constriction and splay over Ed's arched back. Meanwhile, they were both kissing fiercely, blissfully, tongues moist with the wetness in each other's mouths. Their noses bumped accidentally a few times, showing how inexperienced they were with kissing one another. Ed used one palm to cup the other's jaw so he could steady the kiss a bit more, while his other hand was sliding up Al's shirt. Breaking the kiss for a second, the elder boy whispered urgently, "T-try brea-breathing through yo-your nose. . . while I kiss you."

All he received was a nod in response, and their mouths met again, this time a bit more timid, a bit more sensual. The languid movements of their tongues were prolonged this time, brushing softly and slowly. Alphonse ran his hands down the other's back yearningly, moaning into his mouth happily. His abdomen felt strange, like tightening and releasing and a peculiar expanding feeling in his stomach was telling him this was making him very happy, indeed. He spread his legs a bit, pressing up and letting his leg brush against his brother's lower region. He felt the vibration of a groan in his own mouth that came from the one he was kissing. Skilled hands slid over his body leaving trails of pleasure in their wake. They ventured beneath his shirt, underneath him to touch the outer parts of his back, his stomach and his pant line.

In fact, those hands found a particular sensitive spot on Al's sides that elicited a soft sound from him and resulted in him squeezing his eyes shut and crushing his thin hips against his brother's. He pulled away from those perfect red lips, opening his eyes a little to look gratefully at Ed. "H-how is it that you know what makes me react like that?" he asked in bewilderment. His breath came out in wispy increments, and his lungs felt squished with the weight between the two of them. It was okay though; as long as he could feel his big brother's body up against his own, he was perfectly fine.

"You're my little brother; I know everything about you... I've had dreams about touching you like this. About loving you, about being with you... I want your entire being, Alphonse. I want all of it." Edward spoke quietly, and as he did so he was busy at work with the button on the younger's tight jeans. By the time he unfastened them, Al was speechless, and the pants were already halfway down his hips, leaving him in a t-shirt and boxers. Finally they were around his ankles, then pulled completely off and shoved to the foot of the bed.

The bronze-eyed boy squirmed a little beneath the seductive touch he was receiving. He watched as Ed moved down a little and kissed his inner thigh, tasting the milky, supple skin like it were a delicate thing that should be savored. Al hissed in response, the nearness of Ed's mouth to that 'one spot' bringing the tension inside him to its boiling point. The kisses went higher, just to the edge of where the leg of the boxer's started. There was only the light from the streetlights outside shining through the window, but it was more than enough for both of them.

Al gasped out a little, his hands clenching tightly into the blankets under them. When those kisses got too close for comfort, he was already abandoning the blankets and sliding his hands down his body to gratify himself. There wasn't anyway he could wait any longer. It was becoming slightly painful. Edward noticed this, and moved back up a bit, forcing those lingering fingers away patiently, and slowly removing the male's shirt sexily, trying to prolong his mild frustration. Then he gently lowered himself back down against the boy, his clothed chest pressed into Al's bare one.

Nervous, lustful eyes looked at Ed expectantly, and their noses met in a cute way, faces close and bodies closer.

"_Kiss me_, Al. I want you to _show me _that you want this."

And Ed was greeted with shy lips touching his, nudging his, and trying to get him to accept the mouth that was really so_ very _willing.

In a matter of long, sensuous moments, the older of the two was stripped down to his boxers too, thanks to help from the boy below him. At one point, they heard the clatter of loose change in one of their pockets as a pair of pants fell from the bed onto the floor. The light from the window shone brightly on their ivory, sweaty skin and made the whole image more magical and forbidden.

The forbidden part is what Ed loved most. He loved knowing that he was being so sinful in stirring these desires within his baby brother. He loved knowing that this was like their secret game, their secret little love affair. Because of the alcohol, the thoughts of Winry and the wedding wouldn't even show up till the next day.

He strung kisses down that silky neck while Al gently touched him through his boxers. It only aroused him more to know that he would be Al's first time, and that the hand that was rubbing him so tenderly down there was a hand that was unsure and curious. _God, _this felt so good. He pressed into the male's palm impatiently, groaning against the flesh he was kissing. "Mnnn, _harder, _Al. _Rub just a little bit harder,_" he murmured, huskily. His voice sounded so strange, so foreign. Even Winry had never got him like this.

She'd never made his heart slam against his chest, or his stomach rollover. She'd never kissed him so innocently, or so sweetly like his little brother had.

Alphonse complied tentatively, putting a little more pressure into the movements of his strokes. He could tell with placid fascination that even through fabric it must feel really good what he was doing to Edward. "Am... am I doing okay, brother?"

He received a moan in response; a deep, passion-filled moan that made the sensitive hairs on the back of Al's neck stand on end, it was so amazing.

"W-wonderful, Al. You're doing so _wonderful_..." Ed managed shortly after. His wrists were beginning to hurt from supporting his weight above his brother. So instead he pinned the one hand Al wasn't using up above his head so he could lay fully on the younger. That also provided better access to the spots that he wanted to be hit on a bit more. But much to his pleasured surprise, Al wasn't too keen on just 'through the fabric touching;' he had reached a little farther and brought his hand inside the dark blue boxers Edward was wearing and cautiously let his fingers graze over his brother's arousal.

Another moan; this one strained and almost pleading.

"H-have you ever touched yourself, little brother?" came the older Elric's breathy question.

He could almost feel Al's blush throughout his entire body. "Y-yes. . . "

"Good." Ed whispered in response. Then; "I want you to do exactly what you do to yourself. But do it to me, instead. It's the exact same thing," he instructed, kissing the other's cheek.

The bed squeaked a little as Alphonse shifted under him, swallowing unobtrusively, his hand not moving. He closed his eyes and thought about what he usually did while his hand was in his own pants. He remembered grasping lightly to his own arousal, and most of the time his other hand would cover his mouth so he wouldn't make too much noise. That was when he would be worried about Ed hearing. But now it was his turn to give Ed what he had given himself, and he figured he might be able to do it properly if only he weren't so diffident about this. He'd even go as far as saying he was being mildly standoffish, without meaning to.

"It's okay, Al," the older of the two said gently. "Don't be afraid... trust me; it's hard to mess this up."

"I'm not afraid, I'm just not sure I can do it right," he looked away in embarrassment.

"Here, like this," and Edward reached readily into Al's boxers, being careful and tender and making sure not to hurt him. "Just like this, okay?" and slowly he closed his hand around Al and began moving at an unhurried pace. Gold eyes rose to look at the other man's face, and the look he saw was definitely the desired effect. His brother was pretty much killing his bottom lip with how hard his teeth were pressed into it, and his eyes were clenched shut under the pure force of pleasure shooting through his entire body. His own long, dark blonde hair was spread underneath his shoulders, and it painted a masterpiece of euphoric bliss.

In subdued response to waves of bodily reaction running through him, Al tightened his hand a bit around his brother's own arousal, moving at the same rhythmic time-frame Ed was. He cried out a little bit, the sound echoing through the empty house, like music to Ed's ears. The bed squeaked again and hit against the wall when Al jerked away a little in a painful mix of pleasure and agony. It was really beginning to hurt; after all, the boxers were still pressed tight into him, even with Edward's hand there.

"Brother, _brother..." _he whispered with a faint hint of desperation, as his free hand touched that perfect face. His eyebrows furrowed in pain, and he squeezed a little tighter onto Ed. "Without the clothes... _the shorts_..." he felt half delirious from the whole ordeal, but he got the estranged feeling this was really only the preliminaries. "I want to feel just you, not the boxers," he told his big brother urgently.

Edward's gold eyes traveled down Al's body curiously, his hand halting. He could see every curve, every small muscle, every inch of skin in the dim light, except for that one place. Of course, he'd seen all of it before-- they'd been close since they were born. Which meant that they had always bathed and _sometimes _showered together till their late teenage years. They never told anyone, but they did it. Now that he looked back on it, Al had always looked at him strangely when they were both nude together in soapy water. He'd never thought anything of it-- he just saw it as curiosity from a younger man. A younger man who was still having his own body developing in ways he'd never thought possible. But that was a long time ago, and now they were doing things a little less innocent.

Obeying nonetheless, he squirmed away from the hand that was within his boxers, and removed his own hand from Al's. Instead, he brought them to the rim of the soft material, tugging down a bit, his gaze intent and calm, but certainly not casual. This was so much different from all the other times he had seen his brother's body naked. This time he was lying beneath him, sweat shimmering on his chest and beneath the bangs hanging over his face. It was so much more sexual and more meaningful now. He didn't know what to think. But when the boxers slid past the border, and down Al's thighs, off of his legs in a matter of flat seconds, he simply smiled and shook his head. It wasn't _that _much different. He still had the same perfect, delicate body he'd always had since the they'd stopped taking showers together. Only some things had changed, but not much.

The redness began to fade from Al's cheeks, and he shifted slightly, his hands resting on his stomach irritably itching to move southward. He still couldn't make himself look at his brother, for fear of the look he might see. Would Ed be disgusted? Would he change his mind about what they were doing? Would he not even bother with words, just stand and leave? Would he go get more alcohol so it was easier to pretend that the form beneath him was Winry? Or some other person?

"Why didn't we do this sooner?" Ed said softly, fingers brushing in a light manner down the inside of Al's left leg. "I miss seeing you without clothes on. . . " That was the truth-- Edward had savored those times when they could be so open in front of each other, washing each other's hair in the bathtub, laughing and spitting bathwater at one another's faces. Those were the days when Ed didn't care who came into his life, as long as Alphonse was there next to him. Before he had met Winry and. . . 'Fallen in Love.' What a lie. What a lie his life had become when she had entered.

Al sat up nervously, pulling away from the touch. Hardly paying mind to the words, even though they struck him deep and hard, and made it even more difficult to restrain himself. His skin was stirring with desire. And his chest feel like it might crack open with the force of his heart pounding mercilessly into it. "I don't know. . . things change I guess. We changed. But the way we felt didn't." as the words came out, he realized just how true they were. How much things had changed around them, and how their attitudes had changed, but their internal feelings never deterred from the want and need for each other.

Then a smile overcame Edward, and he shrugged. "Then I don't know about you, but I'm definitely ready for things to go back to the way they were again. You're all I've ever wanted. The person who has my blood running through their veins, the person who's been here by me the entire time. Right here." Al was sitting cross-legged now, his hands over his arousal, timidly modest, and bronze eyes focused on the blanket under them, and listening to his big brother's wise words.

He laughed a little, his head hurting like a bitch. He tried to ignore it. "Yeah . . ."

A short silence followed that, but in that time Ed was removing his own boxers without being noticed, his mind still focused intently upon what he wanted. And after the last item of clothing fell to the floor, he lifted Al's head with caution, and made those tired eyes meet his own. "We're not quite finished yet. You're not gonna get out of this _that _easily."

He didn't want to get out of it at all. He was just nervous. He'd read about how guys do things like this... and frankly, it sounded painful. But maybe it'd be gentle. . . maybe they wouldn't even do it at all! Maybe they'd end up just giving each other basic foreplay or whatever it's called. Oh who cares? If it hurts, it hurts. At least it'd feel better tomorrow. . . tomorrow. . . what was tomorrow anyway?

Edward moved the pillows, and shoved them to the foot of the bed, situating the whole area for what he was preparing for. Al sat there watching, his toes clenching and unclenching in nervousness. He didn't do too well with pain. . .

Arms were slipping around him in a moment, strong around his small middle, tugging him closer. He was coming close to backing out of this, because the anticipation was far greater than anything he'd ever felt. Ed laid Al down on the pillows delicately, pushing them around a bit to be more supportive, trying his best to make the younger boy comfortable. He knew very well how much this was going to hurt. Knew how much courage it was taking Alphonse to go through with it.

"I. . . I'm scared. I don't know if I can do this." he whispered, watching Ed grab rustle around in the nightstand drawer for something. Al didn't know why; it wasn't like he had lube. He'd never needed it. What could possibly be used as a replacement? Well, Ed would figure it out.

Setting aside whatever it was he'd retrieved out of the nightstand, he brushed the wispy, struggling hairs out of Al's eyes so they could achieve eye contact again. But Al wouldn't allow it. He kept on looking at the ceiling or to the side. He couldn't look. He'd change his mind. "Hey, hey. Don't be like that Al. You know I'll be as careful as I can. This is my first time doing this with another guy. It's not something I ever wanted to make a habit out of." He meant, of course, with anyone other than Al.

Alphonse covered his face with his thin hands, groaning in anxiety. He'd never felt this much fear in his entire life. It was just pain though, right? It couldn't do that much, right? Distantly, he heard the snap of a cap and something else he couldn't put his finger on. The rest he tried to block out, because he knew it would help if he tried to ignore it.

Things began to fill him inside, filling him with a wet substance to try and liquefy him, but he already felt like liquid anyway. He knew that this was supposed to make it easier, but the stretching and the pain was beginning to become too much. He wouldn't let it show. He just kept his hands over his face, hissing every few seconds. Tears were forming, but he ignored them, too. When he was empty again inside, other than the slick lotion-y like stuff, he waited a moment, and heard Ed sigh softly.

"Al. Stop it. This isn't going to be what it should be if your all clammed up like that. You need to relax. It'll hurt _so much worse _if you don't relax all of your muscles." as he spoke, he ran his hands over Al's sides and his hips and thighs, trying to calm him. Slowly, the intensity of fear ebbed away and left Alphonse breathing heavily, his hands just over his mouth now, and his eyes barely open.

"O-okay. I'm. . . I'm going to just close my eyes, okay? Brother. . . I don't know what to do!" Tears fell down the sides of his face, and he blinked them away, and rubbed at them absently.

"Dammit, Al. Cut it out. I'm not even inside you yet! It's not going to be that bad. The pain will only last a moment. Trust me. Just breathe, and wait." Ed instructed calmly. He massaged the back of Al's legs to ease him further, and he could feel the tension, but this time it wasn't in fear-- it was in want. He didn't think he could turn the younger man on any further, but he guessed he was wrong.

A long moment of silence passed for the billionth time that night, and then a burning red hot sensation, and pain like no other filled Alphonse with a terrible fiery sting. He cried out as he felt even more filled, and he knew what was inside of him this time. What was in his body, and also his soul. It was horrid bittersweet pain, and it took his breath and sanity away. Cool tears slid past his clenched eyelids, like little soldiers running away from a battle. He wished he could.

After that, everything sort of started to drift away. But the placid emotions began to be more defined. They stood out beyond the pain, and the minutes seemed more like seconds. Rationality was no longer a living, breathing thing, and he could've sworn that the clock's hands stopped moving for them. Left them to their own devices and comprehension of time and space.

It lasted like that for hours. And hours.

* * *

_She's Watching Me Awkwardly From a Distance_

_Should I Care?_

_Is There Something More I Should Have Known?_

_I Know That I wonder . . ._

The clock's radio came on with a loud beep and the sound of a rock song echoing in the once noiseless room. Its strumming instruments, and ragged voice was piercing, and jolted both brothers awake in an instant. The first thing they felt was the painful headache of a hangover.

_They took his crown, _

_There's nothing more left of him now._

_  
But he will be okay. _

_And I appreciate,_

_Now that they chose to ignore._

_I can set her free to go without a payment plan._

The words seemed to resound within his throbbing head, and Al buried his face into the pillow irritably. He couldn't remember where he was for a moment. He didn't remember coming home last night. . . only a little. He turned over, nuzzling his body beneath the blankets, seeking warmth. When his eyes opened again, they were locked in by a gold pair staring right at him with fear and realization.

_Will she go? _

_Or Follow? Follow please, follow me home. Follow please, follow me home._

_This wont end like last time. _

_  
The things you swore, they never made me feel anymore. _

"B-brother?" Al's voice was husky with sleep, and he couldn't feel his lower half. But he could feel skin, and it wasn't his own.

He was naked, and so was his brother.

"Al? What. . . what happened? Why are we..." Edward looked under the blanket covering them, and his golden eyes widened even more, if it were possible. His face became deeply red, and his hands began to tremble. This wasn't real. This couldn't be real. They never could have done what he'd been wishing and praying for since he could remember! It just wasn't something logical. But there Al was, laying next to him, naked and still bathed with afterglow. His hair resembled what a lot of people would call 'Sex Hair.'

This was unreal. There was no way. _No way._

But when Alphonse reached foreword and grabbed Ed's face gently, pressing their lips together with clarity, he knew that this all implied just one thing; they had made the biggest mistake of their lives.

_Run Away, Run away. I'll Attack. Run Away, Run Away, Go Chase Yourself._

The song had changed.

* * *

**Closing Notes: **_So that was part one. Sorry if there was too much description on the sex part, but I never get to do stuff like this because in my other stories, there never is 'sex', in the full sense of the word. Just. . . hinting. Anyway, after this there'll be two more parts, and my brain is well at work trying to decide what to do. Questions like; "Wow. It's Ed's wedding day. What the fuck is he going to do now that he knows he slept with his brother last night?" Questions like that keep me up at night. : sighs : Haha, so. . . read and review because I know you love me._


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